


De Ja Who

by SpiderWolf



Series: The Happy Peter Chronicles [3]
Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Gen, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 19:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17086685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiderWolf/pseuds/SpiderWolf
Summary: Happy and Peter are out shopping. Peter is seemingly jinxed.





	De Ja Who

**Author's Note:**

> A little something-something to add to my Happy Peter Chronicles. Apparently I only have inspiration during the holidays. No beta, sorry. It's just a little something-something that I wrote while at work.

                If Peter didn’t have super strength, he would most definitely be overburdened, but aside from the awkwardness of carrying eight shopping bags that hang off his arms (four on each), he is perfectly fine.  He likes that he’s being allowed to aide Happy in the acquisition of presents and decorations asked for by Tony Stark, and he’s game to carry a lot more, but after a clerk stuffs two more bags full of lingerie for Pepper, Happy is ready to leave; insisting on carrying the offending objects himself.

                “I can get those.” Peter says, trying to be helpful.

                Happy just glowers. “I’m not an invalid, kid.”

                Peter fights back a smile and follows him into the shopping mall’s covered parking lot.

                “Mister Stark likes to buy a lot for Miss Potts.” He comments, wondering if he’ll ever forget the wild assortment of bras and underwear Tony requested.

                Happy simply shakes his head. “Every year I think he finds more joy in having me buy them than actually giving them to Pepper.”

                They reach Happy’s town car, and Peter waits for the trunk to be opened. “I’m sure Mister Stark appreciates what you do for him.” He sets one arm’s load down before his spider sense suddenly jumps to eleven. He spins in place; slowed by his burden, and finds a masked man training a gun on them.

                Happy, who is distracted putting his own bags down, only keys in on their situation when he senses Peter’s tense posture beside him. He turns and seemingly freezes in place, but Peter detects the slow motion of his hand reaching behind his back for a concealed weapon.

                “Step away.” The masked man orders in a gravelly voice.

                Peter’s gaze flickers from their presents to Happy, and then back to the man; realizing that they only have two obvious options and he doesn’t like either of them; give up their purchases or let someone get shot. Resolve grows solid in his heart, and he shakes his head stubbornly. “No.”

                “No?” The masked man asks incredulously. “Does this gun not make me look serious enough?”

                “No.” Peter answers quickly. “But your loved ones will like thoughtful gifts that you buy over generic ones you steal from someone else.”

                The man’s gray eyes narrow. “You don’t know that.”

                Peter steps forward and to the side; purposefully blocking Happy’s line of shot. “I do, and you know it too. If they knew where you got their presents, they would be very upset.”

                “You don’t know anything!” The masked man argues loudly. The gun in his hand wobbles unsteadily and Happy gasps behind him, but Peter isn’t done yet. “I have thirty dollars in my pocket that I was going to use to buy something for my aunt and best friend. You can take it and buy something more personal for your loved ones. Something small and from the heart is always better than something you can pick up on the street corner.”

                The man gives him a long look, and then reaches into Peter’s pocket; tugging two bills free. He hesitates, and Peter senses Happy moving ever so slightly; ready to bring out his gun. Desperate to spare the armed man, Peter shakes the bags loose that are still on his one arm, and intentionally knocks Happy to the ground with them. Their robber takes the opportunity to bolt.

                “What the hell was that?!” Happy stands up seething. “Are you serious??”

                “I’m sorry.” Peter lies. He feels guilty yes, but he’s grateful that their mugger got away.

                “What were you thinking?” Happy gripes, quickly reclaiming the lingerie that ended up on the concrete floor. Peter blushes with shame. “My um… arms were falling asleep?”

                “Yeah, I doubt that.” Happy grumbles.

                Peter sighs, looking in the direction the masked man went. “He was just desperate. He didn’t know better.”

                “He knew enough to use a gun!”

                “It wasn’t real.” Peter counters. He doesn’t actually know that, but he knows the man’s finger was never on the trigger.

                Happy keeps mumbling about irresponsible teenagers, and Peter turns back to him just as he finishes shoving the last lacy red bra back in its gift bag.

                “Do you think Mister Stark is going to make you buy replacements for everything that hit the ground?”

                Happy pauses just shy of standing up, and a frown stretches across his already tense face. “Not if he doesn’t know.”

                Grinning, Peter offers him a hand up, and places the last few bags in their trunk. “You won’t tell him what happened?”

                “Tell him what?” Happy asks sharply.

                Peter’s grin only widens. “Thank you, Happy.”

                The shorter man scowls. “I’m not doing it for your benefit. It’s for my own sanity. I’m not happy about what you did.”

                Peter tries to look properly classicized but ends up giggling.

                “What?”

                “But you _are_ Happy.”

                Happy smacks Peter’s arms as he walks around to the driver’s door. “Get in the car kid, before I change my mind.”

                Peter shuts the trunk and climbs in the backseat, just as a thought occurs to him. He huffs a small laugh which draws Happy’s attention.

                “What?”

                He smiles, feeling somewhat self conscious. “This is the second Christmas in a row that someone’s tried to rob me.”

                If looks could kill, Happy’s would. “How is that funny?”

                Peter shrugs – still smiling.

                Happy groans and buries his face in his palms. “You are going to be the death of me.”


End file.
